


doctor in distress

by areyoumarriedriver



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4206039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoumarriedriver/pseuds/areyoumarriedriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If River were to attempt to explain exactly how the TARDIS communicated with her, she would fail every time. It was like a voice – but not a voice, more like a sudden thought that wasn’t her own. But it was because she’d just thought it.</p><p>That idiot is in trouble.</p><p>Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	doctor in distress

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going through and organizing my fan fiction folder and found this fic I'd written back in 2013 for the rd ficathon. I ended up writing a second (better imo lol) fic to fulfill the prompt, but never got around to posting this one?
> 
> I'm probably going to finish some of my unfinished works as well, assuming they're still possible to make canon compliant.
> 
> So Happy Thursday!

**_doctor in distress_ **

If River were to attempt to explain exactly how the TARDIS communicated with her, she would fail every time. It was like a voice – but not a voice, more like a sudden thought that wasn’t her own. But it was because she’d just thought it.

_That idiot is in trouble._

And something about the thought, the urgency and amusement, mirth and malice-free amusement laced with concern – somehow the combination of all of these things always made River aware of exactly _who_ was thinking these things.

“Oh god, what did he do now?” River grumbled as she pulled herself out of her cot. She’d been so close to a small cat nap – a lovely refresher as she’d just gotten back from a four week dig in Akhaba. A rushed sense of amusement is all River can feel as she pulls on her black trousers, boots, blouse and corset. She rummages through her wardrobe for her utility belt with its bigger on the inside pockets. She packed efficiently – PDA, plasma gun, squareness gun, secondary blaster, a handful of smoke grenades, hallucinogenic lipstick, psychic paper, lock pick kit, diary, knives, string, rope, handcuffs. It was efficient and methodical and borne of a plethora of experience at these sorts of side-trips.

How did he manage to get himself into these scrapes?

She picked up her vortex manipulator and allowed her thoughts to wander as she punched in coordinates. It was a bit odd, but she knew exactly when to go, typing in numbers before hitting the button and disappearing with a sizzle and a pop.

It was night where she arrived, the air warm and balmy as she took stock of her surroundings. She was in a grove of cherry trees, gathered together and branches hung low with fragrant blossoms. She inhaled deeply, a good idea just where and when she was, but she pulled her PDA out and scanned the area – just in case.

“Japan, 855 AD. Tōdai-ji temple in Nara. What on earth are you doing here, my love?” She murmured as she peered at the tiny screen, before she looked up and around.  “Well I’m definitely not appropriately dressed for this,” she sighed as she looked at the large building, looming out of the darkness. The road toward it was well worn, and it stood an impressive height as River eased her way through the dark toward it.

The temple was silent, though she knew that Buddhist monks must be around somewhere, she’d rather not run into any. Attacking non-violent monks was unacceptable, and she didn’t quite think she’d be able to pull off the lipstick either. All that left her was stealth and her psychic paper. Hopefully  the former would serve her well enough that she wouldn’t need the latter. She stuck to the darker shadows as she crept past the two rather menacing statues by the gates, and made her way silently up the stone path to the temple itself.

Once she ascended the shallow stone steps and arrived at the building, she looked up in awe. She knew the stories of course – it was the largest wooden structure ever built on earth – even well into the 23rd century. And after that – well, no one built with _wood_ anymore. She ran a hand over the wooden frame work fondly – the building practically sung with unread history, unspoken stories, untold mysteries. Some places just hummed with it – _history_. And she loved it – always had – that exciting shiver that slid down her spine and tingled out to the tips of her fingers. Stories made up history, small events that snowballed into _big_ events that catapulted into era changing events – but in the end, everything started with one small story.

She smiled as she melted into the shadows, making her way into the temple as she strained to listen. Though the TARDIS had given her coordinates – she had no idea exactly _where_ the Doctor could possibly be. How could he possibly get in trouble with _monks_ for goodness sakes?

She crept through the foyer, moving into the main hall, and absolutely _vast_ room with tall wooden pillars that arched into the ceiling. At the very back of the room was a dais with an utterly _massive_ statue of Buddha on it. In front of the dais were candles, all lit, and notes and floral offerings. River crept through the empty room to study it.  The Nara Daibutsu.  “So _new_ ,” she murmured staring up at the huge metal statue.

She was studying the intricate bronze work on the massive form when she heard a muffled noise from behind her. She frowned – it sounded oddly like the sonic – but it was softer and lower. She crept around the statue until the noise got louder, along with a muffled curse.

“Just _do wood_ you piece of rubbish thing – I am going to die in a pillar. Oh that is fantastic, Just fantastic. Yeah well, I didn’t want to be blessed by Buddha anyway-”

“Sweetie?” River hissed, moving toward the pillar she thought it was coming from. “Doctor?”

“River?” He yelped, quite loudly and she moved around the pillar to see a tiny hole cut away in the bottom of it. “River! Of course you’re here – oh god I bloody _adore_ you - get me out of here!”

“What on _earth_ are you doing?” She crouched by the hole, peering into it with a torch she pulled out of her belt. There, looking flustered beyond belief, was the Doctor’s face, his hair hanging down into his eyes as he appeared to stuck, _inside_ the wooden pillar. She sighed softly. “Why do I let you out?”

“Because imprisoning one’s spouse is illegal in 347 galaxies River. Besides, I’m older and if anyone is letting anyone else out-” She glared at him, lowering the torch and he finally got a look at the expression on her face and abruptly stopped talking. “Right. Well. I appear to be a bit… _stuck_.”

“A bit?” she asked sceptically.

“It’s not as bad as it _looks_ really,” he started and then huffed in annoyance. “Could you know just pull me out and we could discuss this out _there_?”

“How small is that hole exactly anyway? You’re the breadth of a piece of string, honestly sweetie. I love you, but _broad_ you are not.”

“Oi! I’m plenty broad, River Song. My _breadth_ is just fine and has never bothered you before,” he squirmed as he spluttered and she laughed in delight.

“Oh no honey, your girth in _certain_ areas is more than adequate for a lady,” she teased. “You’ll have to wriggle an arm out above your head for me. You should have gone down like a dive you know.”

“ _Adequate_? Nothing about me is adequate River! I am brilliant, amazing, spectacular – _majestic_. I’ll show you adequate,” he grumbled as he wriggled to and fro, eventually working on arm out over his head. River grasped the limb and centered her own weight back as she tugged at him, using her own pull to inch him down. “Owowowowowowow, owww, River!”

“Stop being such a _baby_ ,” she hissed up at him as she tugged harder.

 “ _I said ow_ ,” he stressed, glaring down at her. “It _hurts_.”

“Well maybe we shouldn’t go crawling into places no one _fits_ , should we?” She grumbled and gave one final tug and he slid out of the pillar, landing in a pile at her feet. They were both panting and he looked up at her, before scrambling to his feet and grabbing her face with his hand, kissing her enthusiastically all over. He pressed smacking kisses to her forehead and nose, cheeks and chin and mouth. She giggled at him, shoving at his shoulders.

He hissed in pain and backed away her, breathing heavily.  She stared at him, eying him up and down. “What have you got on?”

“It’s a kimono, River, kimonos are cool – and also period appropriate. Clearly _you_ don’t care about such things but I on the other hand have-”

“Is that a _bow_ on your obi? And is your kimono _tweed?”_

“Yes, well, listen, bow ties are _cool_ River and you know I don’t like to not wear one – even when I’m in 9 th century Japan. And it’s not tweed it’s silk. It just has a pattern that is-”

“My god, you had a silk tweed kimono made for yourself. How do you even – you know what, never mind, let me look at your shoulder. Where’s your sonic?” She ran her hands down over him as she checked all of his limbs were intact.

“ _River_ , that is _not_ my sonic,” he gasped as he blushed when her hands brushed against his groin. Well. She was checking _all_ of his limbs.

“No, I know sweetie. Far too much girth,” she teased him as she reached for his sonic, scanning him and checking the result. “Some deep bruising, sorry sweetie, but at least it’s not dislocated. Want me to kiss it better?”  She offered and he glared at her. His glare softened as she actually leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the shoulder in question. “So what _were_ you doing crawling through a pillar like a termite Doctor?”

“Seeking enlightenment in my next life,” he huffed, crossing his arms as he pouted at her like a small child. “I’m not sure why it enlightens you exactly, it’s just a wooden pillar isn’t it? I mean a massive one sure, but still, just a pillar. Oh but did you know River that the exact width of it is the same as one nostril on the Daibutsu?” He waved an arm over toward the massive statue and she sighed, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

“You don’t even believe in reincarnation, sweetie, what on Earth has gotten in to you?”

“Well, regeneration is reincarnation a bit, isn’t it? It’s sort of like it anyway – and you know nothing has ever helped, really. I try to concentrate during – but I can never seem to keep control of it and it would actually be rather nice to be a bit more enlightened in my next go, don’t you think River?” He looked up at her hopefully and she shook her head, staring at him intently.

“Did something happen? Are you hurt or injured – about to regenerate now?” She ran her hands over him as she fretted; suddenly worried that he’d sought this enlightenment _right now_. “I don’t remember you saying anything about Japan-”

“Have you met me?” He asked stupidly and she arched a brow at him, waiting. “I mean yes you’ve _met_ me, clearly, _hello_. But I mean have you met – the next me?”

“Spoilers sweetie,” she pointed out calmly and his shoulders sank in dejection.

“It’s just a nice thought, you know. You – I mean maybe the next me will be better at everything River, better at – at – where to put my hands, or better at not feeling terrified every time I look at you-”

“When are you Doctor?” She handed him his sonic back, wrapping her arms around herself as she eyed him. Stupid really, she should have checked-

“Further than you think. Just because I married you – a few times – doesn’t mean I find you any less confusing or terrifying, dear.” He grinned at her and she felt the tension bleed out of her frame – at least he knows who she is.

“Doctor-” She started and he shook his head, moving closer and folding her hands in his own.

“I’m a rubbish husband and I know that, River Song. I don’t say the things I ought to nearly often enough. I don’t appreciate you like I should – I always thought you know, that by this point I’d make up for all the – well, you know, _spoilers_. But I’m terrible at this, and I’m not getting any better at it so I thought – I don’t know. Maybe the next me…”

“Sweetie,” she sighed, turning her hands until her fingers tangled with his, “you’re fine, as is. You _are_ a rubbish husband – you never say you love me, you don’t remember anniversaries and when you do you show up three months early at four in the morning. You don’t do anything a normal husband would do – like get angry when I kiss Cleopatra, or argue with me about washing up or tell me that it’s gone from lovely, sparkly new to familiar and staid. We’re not domestic, or routine – and all of these things,” she moved closer as he stared at her, looking forlorn, “is why you are the _only_ man in this universe I could ever marry, or _will_ ever marry. You are terrible at being married, but you’re perfect at being married to _me_ – which is a whole different standard, honey.”

He smiled a bit at that, his mouth curling as he huffed out a chuckle. “Sometimes even _you_ need to hear it – you can’t deny that River. I’m ill-equipped to… the thing is that I-”

“No, I don’t.” She shushed him, stepping in closer, her hands at his waist, the ridiculous material of his kimono slipping beneath her fingers. “I don’t need to hear it. I need to _know_ it – and oh my love, if you think I don’t know _how_ much you love me, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought. I _know_. You show up every night, without fail. You let me keep my history intact, knowing that it hurt my parents. You never say it, but they’re just words, Doctor. They’re uttered far too often – spoken with all the depth of emotion of a hello, or a how are you. You don’t say it but you mean it – every time you look at me, or touch me, or take five minutes to figure out where to put your hands.” She took his hands in hers and settled them at her waist as she smiled at him, pressing in closer to kiss him softly.

His fingers tightened on her hips, tugging her closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips biting at hers as she hummed, tasting tea and custard inside his mouth. His hands started to roam then, tugging at her blouse, seeking skin to brush his fingertips against as she moaned in delight, her hips tilting forward into his. When she pulled back his eyes were glassy and his mouth delightfully pink as he blinked at her. “I don’t need to hear you say it. I know.”

“Bespoke,” he breathed the word out and she smiled at him. “I know too, you know. Always, River.”

 

                                                                                                                                                                           


End file.
